OneShot: Their Own Reality
by FrostyDream
Summary: She was not sleeping, even though she had had a tiring day at work, but she wasn’t expecting his visit either. Not that there ever was a time that she had expected him to be there. Rated M for WeskerxClaire smut


Warning this is ClairexWesker smut!!

Disclaimer: I don't own these two, if I did…well this would not be a fic.

One-Shot: Their Own Reality

It was late when she heard the bedroom door squeak as it was opened then closed.

She was not sleeping, even though she _had_ had a tiring day at work, but she wasn't expecting his visit either. Not that there ever was a time that she had expected him to be there.

Still, she could not hold back the faint flutter only his presence could bring.

She turned over onto her back, barely making a sound in her queen sized bed, her eyes landing in the area where she assumed he stood staring back at her.

He was there, and he was watching her with his unholy glowing red eyes.

It was usually always the same actions they would do in nights like this. She would move a bit aside and lift up the soft gray sheet. He would watch her for a moment, but only a moment.

Then he would take off each glove and place them on the nightstand where the neon blue lights of her digital clock made the room look a bit fuzzy. It would compete with the darkness but they would never win, always in the same struggle, but never moving an inch.

After his gloves, his overcoat, if he were wearing one that night, folded and placed upon her dresser. Then his shirt, which was also folded neatly and placed over his coat. She always noticed that he never wore his sunglasses when he would come into her place. She liked to think it was because he wanted her to see the truth behind his demon eyes, and never had she looked away when he stared into her own angelic blue ones.

People would call her insane if they knew what she did with this monster man. They would probably try to put her away. Truth be told sometimes she wondered whether she _was_ crazy to be doing _this_ with Wesker ,of all people.

To be feeling like this.

After all she know what he had done, what he was capable of doing. His belt would be next, wound up tightly above his shirt.

She know what her brother would say to this, what he would do if he knew.

Wesker would then, silent as a prowling panther, make his way to sit on the edge of her bed. His bare muscular back to her as he leaned over to unlatch, untie, and remove his socks and boots. He unclasped his pants and pushed them down leaving him in his own black boxer briefs.

He would then turn to her, and for that split second she could feel what he wanted to say, but only for a second. It always made her doubt whether she had seen something or nothing at all. Her mind and heart always looking to deeply into things like these.

His large hand would engulf her smaller one, the one that was holding on tightly to the soft gray sheet.

And he would rest his head upon the pillow, and look at her. Not look through her as if she was not there, or at her like she were nothing that mattered. No, he would look at _her. _Like there was no other site to behold, like a man that had wondered the dessert too long with out a sip of water. There in those too short of moments was the only times that Claire could see Albert Wesker. What could have been, what should have been, if it were not for Umbrella, if it were not for the longing for power over each man that walked on earth.

He would run the tips of his fingers over her exposed ribs, almost like he thought she would shatter her by the simple touch. The loose tank top that she wore was slowly, gently, pushed up and away from her body. Leaving her exposed only to his softly glowing eyes.

She would turn to him, her hands rubbing up and down his arm, as if to warm him from the outside in. He brought her closer, her nose bumping up against his throat. Claire took in breath; his sent was a mix of cologne and something musky, a scent unique to him. She wanted to say something, anything that would get him to—possibly open up, to let her see more of what she believed was the real Albert Wesker, what actually lay beneath the exterior everyone took as a monster.

Their breathing was synchronized

But she didn't say anything, she simply rested her hand over his chest. Claire could feel his heart beet, strong and steady. No real sign that he was different from any other man. He would hold her just a bit closer, like a drowning man would hang on desperately to the only chance of life.

And she would place soft kisses onto his throat.

He would close his eyes.

She would run her hands over his exposed chest, slowly roaming onto his back to rub gently at tight knots.

He would bring his forehead to rest next to hers.

They knew nothing about each other. Well he might have known more about her than she ever know about him.

The history that played outside the room they laid in never came in, never brought up. It was strange really, how they cold just let go of everything that made them, defined who they were and simply _be_ with each other.

Maybe they did this to feel normal, even if it wasn't. The illusion of coming to a home that was not empty, having that one person you longed for during the time they were away to be there to hold you. To feel as if nothing but only their presence of existence was the reality. But it was only make-believe.

She didn't want to think of this. Claire wanted the illusion of a stable life without the fear of the evil that lay in the heart of…

Sometimes he would start, sometimes she would. This time, she kissed her soft lips to his warm hard ones, as her cool, soft fingers traced the curve of his face.

When they touched, it was electric.

His fingertips slid smoothly along her cheek before his hand curled possessively around the nape of her neck.

His other hand pulled Claires body flush against his, rolling them so Wesker lay above her. His nimble fingers found their way, under her boy shorts until they slide smoothly into wetness. It was rare when Wesker was in a playful mood, I guess today was not the best of days for him either Claire thought to herself.

Their half lidded eyes meeting at the contact; longing, smoldered.

Claire couldn't help throwing her head back and moaning with the intense pleasure of his touch. Wesker took the opportunity to dip his sleek head into the curve of her pale throat and lavish it with the attentions of his mouth and tongue.

The combination of his teeth scraping along her clavicle and his fingers plunging into her had Claire startlingly close to orgasm already. Somewhere in the back of her mind where the lust hadn't completely taken her she thought about the marks she'd need to hide under a turtle neck. "Albert" she whispered urgently through panting breaths.

Dragging his tongue up the column of her pale throat and never ceasing the movements of his hand, he husked into Claire's ear, "Claire, I need you."

His voice was deep and smooth making the hot tension between them crackle, every low note striking a chord in her.

Claire ran her fingers through his slicked back blond hair, her nails scraping his skull. She shuddered in ecstasy as his slight stubble scraped a trail down her throat and lower.

Wesker hungrily attacked her perky breasts, swooping down to wrap his lips around one hard nipple while his free hand played the other, sending an electric jolt straight from the top of her head to the tips of her pink painted toes.

Claire's dark thoughts disappeared, the pounding of pleasure rising through her whole body until there was room for nothing else. She clutched at his head and strong shoulders, trying somehow to bring his body closer to hers.

Wesker's strong fingers pulled at her boyshorts until Claire could feel the coolness of the room and sheets. Free from the scrap of cloth his hand once again found its way to the center of her pleasure and began rubbing in a much more freely measured strokes until Claire was moaning continuously and biting her lip to hold back screams of bliss. The walls in this apartment were a little on the thin side.

"Wesker," she gasped out, feeling as if her lungs could not take in enough oxygen. "Now, please! I need to feel you inside me."

His tousled head came up and he gave Claire a piercing look. His sculpted nose brushing against her own pointed one and their labored breath mingling in the small space between their lips.

Wesker hungrily captured her lips once again as Claire dragged her fingernails over his chiseled chest, coming to a stop at the elastic of his undergarment. The heat that rose from him was intoxicating for her senses. She ran her index finger over the bulge, causing him to groan into her mouth, and jerk his solid hips into her.

The blond man grabs at her playful hand and pushes it palm up hard against his throbbing member, Claire happily complied squeezing it just a bit more. His grunts the only sign of approval.

She tugged at the dark cloth, struggling to free its content. After a moment he was freed from the tight fabric, only to be stroked and squeezed by her slender hands. His groans of pleasure spurring her to squeeze his large shaft harder.

"E-enough." Wesker breathlessly said as his hands pushed hers away, quickly shifting himself over her, spreading her long legs across his bent knees, hands dancing up and down the damp skin while he kissed her pulse point. Her own hands played and explored the muscular plains of his chest and back.

He positioned her hips so she hovered over his straining erection, Wesker met her gaze a moment before. To Claire it was like looking into the eyes of a great fire, she could not help but to be engulfed into it. A baptism by fire.

She bucked against him, and his arm drifted to cup underneath her delightfully round rear to hold her upright while she locked her ankles around his waist. He mercilessly teased the responsive flesh before him with his teeth and lips, savoring every whimper from her lips and jerk of her hips.

Wesker thrust into her with one smooth stroke. They both stilled for a few seconds savoring the mind-blowing sensation. Almost painfully tight, wet, velvet heat surrounded him completely. Claire leaned forwarded and captured his lips once more, her nails digging into his shoulders, as he began to slowly thrust into her.

Her groans grew louder with each up-thrust of his solid hips, his hands squeezing her backside harder. She was going to be so sore tomorrow. A few more thrust and Wesker shifted and rolled them over the sheets so that Claire straddled him. The movement took Claire by surprise but an instant later she rolled her hips as Wesker held on.

Each roll was met a hard thrust and causing sparks of heat to shoot up and down his surrounded length. She felt so good, insides clenching his cock with every thrust.

Claire shuddered around him, riding the pace as they went faster and faster. Finally, she clenched hard around him with a cry, and rushing heat tightened in his groin and shot through his shaft as he spilled himself inside her.

The sounds of their heavy breathing filled the room. Claire laid her damp head onto Weskers slick chest as his hands rubbed circles on her bottom and back.

Without withdrawing from each other, their heavy breathing turned into even, long breaths as they fell into an exhausted sleep.

Claire's final thoughts, before giving into unconsciousness were if he would stay till morning. Would she finally see him in the light of the rising sun.

FIN

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AN: Real reason I did this was cus I got tired of the lack of updates and cus it wouldn't leave me alone. (yes I'm a perv)

Extremely loosely based on the mythological story of Psyche and Cupid.

Also tried to add a bit of a back story to it, don't know if that worked out or not.

I had a lot of help from a friend in the smut part cus This is the first time I write something like this, so if this does not sound like the way I normally write its cus I had tons of help.

There is probably a lot of grammar, spelling, and wording issues but…I'm tired of having this on my hard drive so I'm just ganna put it out there. Comment if you like, or don't.

But a review would make me so happy.


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